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her. Only to circle in front of her so his big body blocked her escape.

“Look at me,” he ordered, and though irritation sparked inside her, so did that heat. It flared higher, hotter at the demand in his low voice. “I’m right here, not over my shoulder.”

Lip curling, she shifted her gaze from the cars packed into the lot behind him and met his eyes. The light from the tiki torches posted around The Glen and the parking lot didn’t quite reach back to this pocket of darkness where they stood. They stared at one another, caught in some kind of in-between—in between light and dark. Silence and noise. Reality and an alternate universe where only they existed. A no-man’s-land that offered a false sense of privacy. And danger.

Danger to her senses. Her common sense. Her body.

“What?” she repeated.

“You tell me,” he said, studying her face. She refused to recoil or duck her head from his scrutiny that veered too close to intrusive. No, she lied. Not intrusive. Perceptive. Which wasn’t awful unless you had a lot to hide. And she did. “What happened back there with Jenna? You don’t even like her, so why were you with her?”

“As if I had a choice,” she snapped. “She insisted on escorting me to the bathroom, just like she said. But her intention wasn’t to make sure I made it to the porta-potty safely. No, she let me know just where I stood with this town, with you. Especially you. Seems she’s appointed herself your personal bodyguard and she warned me off of you.” She shook her head, her lips turning up into a mocking smile. “What did you do? Fuck her and not call the next morning?”

She was lashing out, being a bitch. But she couldn’t rein it in. Couldn’t prevent the words that probably betrayed her hurt, her jealousy.

“What did she say to you?” he asked, voice flat.

And that sliced deeper than Jenna’s accusations. He wasn’t denying having sex with her. And why that should bother—no, no. It didn’t hurt. It eviscerated her. But it shouldn’t. He could screw whoever he wanted. Cole was single, sexy as hell and owner of his choices. He didn’t have to answer to anyone, least of all her. And given how people treated her over her decisions, she damn sure would be the last person to shame anyone. But goddamn. Images of him and Jenna together assaulted her. His honey and almond skin dark next to hers. Her vibrant red strands tangled in his hands. That large, muscular body stretched out over Jenna’s...

Sydney sucked in a breath. Her belly roiled, rebelled. Closing her eyes to block out his face, she laid a hand on her stomach.

“What’s wrong?” he fairly barked, encircling her upper arm. God, he needed to stop touching her. “Is it the baby?”

“No, the baby’s fine,” she murmured through numb lips. “I’m fine. And not your responsibility. You can go back now. I’ll make it to my car safely. I’m sure somebody’s looking for you.”

She moved forward, but his grip didn’t loosen. Held her still. She glared at him, her fury mating with hurt and that ever-present lust.

“No, you’re not my responsibility,” he agreed calmly. Too calmly. Because one glance at his stony features, half enshrouded by shadows, showed he was holding back. He was hiding behind those taut lines, the darkened eyes, the clenched jaw and the grim line of his carnal mouth. The sight of his barely stifled emotion—whatever it was—sent a wicked, perverse thrill spiraling through her. “But you are my friend. Are friends not supposed to be concerned?”

“Friends?” she shot back, yanking at his grip, and like the good man he was, he let her go. But the way her skin burned from the brand of his fingers, he might as well have been still clutching her. “You’ve been avoiding me since that night in your office. I’m surprised you can bring yourself to look at me. And we’re friends?” She scoffed, slicing a hand through the air. “I’m your regret. The reminder of all you’ve lost. And now, according to Jenna, I’m your charity case.”

“Is that what she said to you? Fuck that.” He edged closer into her space. “As if she knows anything about charity. You know who Jenna is, Sydney. The kind of person she is. Why would you take anything that comes out of her mouth as gospel? Especially over my word. You are not a pity project. And I would hope my actions since you’ve returned home would’ve proven that.”

“That’s just it,” she snapped. “They have proven it. Ignoring your own pain to feel my baby’s first kick. Placing yourself in the position to suffer more of that pain just so I wouldn’t be alone at my appointment. Do you know what else Jenna said? You’re a good man. And you are. So good you would take on the burden of your sister’s best friend without a complaint.”

“I’m not a fucking saint, Sydney. So don’t make me out to be one.” The darkly rumbled words rolled through her, vibrating in her chest, tumbling and settling lower, much lower.

He was a man. God, she recognized that. But as far beyond her reach as he loomed, he might as well be one of those celestial beings. She could look, but not touch. Want him, long for him. But dare not to hope that he would ever return that desire.

She rubbed her fingers across her forehead, suddenly tired. So damn tired. “This is pointless. All of this,” she waved a hand behind her, “is because of you, and you should be enjoying it. Should be celebrating seeing it come to fruition. You claim not to be a saint, but once more you’re over here trying to save me. Go be someone else’s savior. Like I said, I’m good. And I’m also done.”

She stepped forward, and at the same time, he shifted closer. In the span of a breath, they crowded each other’s personal space. No part

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